


A Thing Of Guile

by Perfica



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5000-10000 Words, Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, ambiguous ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-06
Updated: 2007-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfica/pseuds/Perfica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was good to know that things hadn't changed too much since his imprisonment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thing Of Guile

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2007 Snarry Games. Team: Wartime. Prompt: Trojan Horse

Snape woke to the sound of metal grating against stone, and for a moment thought Dumbledore had come to rescue him. As his mind cleared – wisps of battles and decoys and conversations shrivelling up while dreams faded and reality intruded – he realised it couldn't be.

Dumbledore was dead.

He heard the Lestranges bicker and Avery's high-pitched hyena laugh as something heavy was dragged into the cell next to him. Snape sat up with a wince, the sour pain of barely-healed skin pulling taut over the muscles in his back.

"Well, well, well," Rodolphus said, amusement clear in his voice. "Let's have a look at you under the light."

"Fuck off, Death Eater," a voice said defiantly.

Avery laughed again and Snape heard a series of loud, thudding blows, as if someone were beating a dusty carpet.

"Best talk politely to your betters," Rodolphus said, slightly out of breath but still pleased. "We wouldn't want to bring you in front of our Lord with no teeth, now would we? You being such a handsome lad?"

"Get your hands off me!"

"He _is_ a pretty thing, isn't he?" Bellatrix murmured.

Snape crawled across the floor, panting quietly as he leaned against the bars. A single torch flickered at the end of the corridor, leaving the majority of the damp prison dark. Straining his neck, he saw several wands lit in the cell next to him. Lying on the floor was a pair of feet wearing dark boots. Dainty feet clad in fashionable pumps kicked them.

"Sit up, pretty. Let Bella have a good look at you."

"I said fuck _off_ , Death Eater."

Snape pressed his face between the bars, watching the boots disappear from view as the man was dragged further inside. There was the sound of scuffling, then the new prisoner swearing profusely.

"Bellatrix, darling," Rodolphus said. "Perhaps you should go back upstairs. Avery and I will interrogate our guest privately."

"I should stay. The Dark Lord has entrusted me – "

"Not just you," Avery interrupted. "Our Lord forgives all who – "

"Enough." Rodolphus' voice struck like a metal goblet falling to the ground. "Bella, go."

A brief pause, then the sound of a wet kiss being given.

"Don't be too long," Bellatrix said sullenly. "Greyback is in attendance and you know how I feel about that frightful beast."

"We shan't. We just need to make a few things clear to our young hero."

Bellatrix moved noisily, huffing and snapping her skirt, her long black hair spilling over her shoulders in a wild tangle. She spied Snape and her mouth split open in a red, wide grin.

"Severus," she crooned, leaning forward and displaying a creamy white décolletage. "Poor, poor Severus. Do you hurt?"

Snape tore his eyes away from her lips – they were the first splash of colour he'd seen in months – and stared resolutely at the wall.

Bellatrix laughed, tilting her head to the side. "I'd heard you were still alive. I'm surprised the Dark Lord hasn't finished you off by now. Perhaps you're not worthy of his attention?"

"When I get out of here, I'm going to snap your neck with my bare hands," Snape said, quietly but distinctly.

Her eyes narrowed. "You always _did_ have high aspirations, Potions master. Cissy should have listened to me. I knew all along you couldn't be trusted."

In the next cell over, Rodolphus continued to ask questions while Avery cackled. Bellatrix moved closer and dropped her voice conspiratorially.

"You're never getting out of here alive, you know," she said, her hands gliding down the bars. By the light of her wand, Snape saw nails bitten to the quick, raw and bloody. "My Lord has told me that he plans on stripping the flesh from your bones one piece at a time. I'll bet you'll scream for us, won't you, darling?"

Snape lunged, one hand futilely reaching for her. Bellatrix gasped and fell back, wand pointed at him as fast as an adder striking.

Snape's back arched, his body rocked between his heels and his shoulder blades, vocal cords tearing as _Cruciatus_ broiled his muscles, his bloody bellows a counter-point to the screams of the prisoner in the next cell.

~~~

Snape came to with a stinging tongue and a mouth full of liquid. Rolling to the side, he spat out stale blood and bile. When his body had stopped shaking, he dragged himself back to a corner of the cell, lifting a flagon of warm water to his mouth with a trembling hand.

The man in the cell next to him was mumbling incoherently as if he too were returning to consciousness. Snape pushed himself to his feet, fingers digging into mossy rocks as he struggled to keep upright for the six steps it took to reach the door.

"Wake up."

The prisoner moaned.

"You need to wake up."

"S – Snape?" a voice replied, raspy with overuse.

Snape dropped the flagon and wrapped his hands around the bars, flakes of rust sticking to his palms. "Potter?"

There was silence for a long minute then the sound of despairing laughter, brittle and broken. "I knew it. I fucking knew it. I was right."

"Right about what? Tell me."

"Shut up, Death Eater."

Snape recoiled from the bars as if stung.

"I won't tell you anything so you can forget about asking. Take me to Voldemort. It's him I want to see."

"I don't think you realise – "

"I'm serious. I don't have anything to say and if I get my hands on you before I see Volde – "

"Potter, you thrice-damned imbecile! If you'd take a moment to think instead of running off at the mouth you'd realise that I'm in just as much trouble as you," Snape said, spitting vehemently. The air he pulled into his lungs tasted like chalk. "Do you think I'm cavorting around the dungeon wearing an Invisibility Cloak? I’m in the damned cell next to you!"

The silence lasted longer this time. Snape took the opportunity to catch his breath and take another sip of water. He didn't mind how long it took for Potter to gather his wits – time moved slowly in the dark prison and any change from routine was a welcome respite from the constant pessimistic buzz of his own thoughts.

"How do I know it's really you?" Harry asked slowly, as if each word was a tooth being pulled from his mouth.

"How do I know it's really _you_?" Snape retorted. "You could be Mulciber or Rookwood. Hell, you could even be Lucius, if he'd ever lower himself to impersonate a half blood. You could be pretending to be Potter in an attempt to gather information."

"Because you'd…speak to me?"

"Of course I'd fucking speak to you! I'd speak to that flobberworm Longbottom if there were a chance it would get me out of here."

"Because you're a prisoner too," Harry mocked.

"Yes!" Snape screamed.

"Right."

Snape pulled a face, fully aware of the fact that no one could see him do it. "Snorting is an unbecoming sound."

"Yeah, well, can't say as I've had much of a chance to hone my manners these last few years. Being on the run tends to make people focus on other things."

"I would imagine," Snape said. He closed his eyes and leant his forehead against the bars, hating himself for the tiny flare of hope that sparked to incandescent glory in his chest. "Is it really you?"

"Yes. And I suppose you're really Snape. The Death Eaters would have to be barmy if they think impersonating you is going to make me spill my guts. You're not exactly my choice of a confidante."

"Quite."

Harry's breathing became audible. The bars in his cell clunked as he fell against them.

"Why did they lock you up, Snape?"

Snape's eyes remained closed. "Because I'm a traitor."

"You're a traitor to us, too."

"Only to those of you unaware of my purpose in the Order."

"Let me guess – spy for the Light in the thick of the Death Eaters?"

"Yes."

"And the only people who knew that for sure were – ?"

"Dumbledore and myself."

"Wow," Harry said, a pained huff of laughter escaping his lungs. "If that's true, you've been more screwed over than I have."

Snape smiled and rolled his head, resting his temple on the wall that separated their two chambers. "I don't know about that. I, at least, bear some responsibility for the way my life has turned out. You seem blameless for the predicament we find ourselves in."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I guess so. We'll see, anyway."

Snape sat up and did his best to sound civil. "Why are you here?"

"I was captured, of course."

"Of course. And the Order just let it happen?"

"They did their best, but…yeah. Guess we were overpowered."

"I see," Snape replied. He winced as he accidentally ran the wounded side of his tongue against his teeth. The pain, a constant for so many days, helped him to focus. "How badly are you injured?"

"A little. The bastards decided to tap dance on my limbs."

Snape sealed the flagon and passed it through the bars, stretching his arm to the left. "Here," he said, waving it.

"Water?" Harry asked, even as he took it.

"Yes. Stale but still good."

"How do I know you're not trying to poison me?"

" _If_ I were still a Death Eater and _if_ I wanted you harmed, my illustrious cronies could have tortured you to death half an hour ago. Why the bloody hell would I be wasting my time talking to you?"

"You could be a plant trying to get information out of me. This could have _Veritaserum_ in it."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Snape snapped. "Give it back. I'll drink some, you may question me on any topic you like and _then_ , when I have proven my sincerity, you can have a bloody drink of bloody water."

"I can't see through walls, Snape. How will I know if you've really had a drink?"

"For fuck's sake!"

"All right, all right, settle down. I'm still not going to drink any but thanks for the offer. Hey, if you pour _Veritaserum_ over wounds, does it work the same way or does it need to be ingested to be effective?"

Snape sighed and banged his head gently against the brick wall. "If I were an impostor, I could tell you any rubbish in the hopes that you'd believe me. _Think_ , Mr Potter."

"Well, you certainly sound like Snape," Harry said with an amused huff. The sound of water splashing on stone alerted him to the fact that Potter had, not so surprisingly, decided to ignore potential danger and do whatever it was he wanted to.

It was good to know that things hadn't changed too much since his imprisonment.

"Thanks, Snape."

"You're welcome."

~~~

"Get up," a voice screamed in his ear. "Get up, you disgusting excuse for a wizard. Get up, you filthy fucking traitor. Mudblood lover."

"I see you haven't lost your talent for hyperbole, Avery," Snape said as he was pulled to his feet and pushed out of his cell. "I have never, to the best of my knowledge, had a Mudblood for a lover."

"Shut the fuck up," Avery hissed, wrapping one wiry forearm tightly around Snape's throat. "I can't wait for the day our Lord decides you're no longer useful."

"I haven't been useful for months," Snape wheezed as he was pushed into Harry's cell.

He fell to his knees, right next to the dragonskin-clad feet of Lucius Malfoy.

"Hello, Severus."

"Shit."

The beatings were systematic and completely predictable; Lucius had a fondness for his cane that carried over into all aspects of his life and, as used to being beaten as Snape was, it still hurt. He concentrated on not giving Lucius the satisfaction of hearing him scream; gritting his teeth and blinking the sweat out of his eyes, trying to clear his vision and get a good look at Potter.

Harry was slumped in a corner, one eye blackened and nearly swollen shut. The other, though red-rimmed, looked relatively clear. His neck and arms were covered in bruises and scrapes that were angry-looking even though they'd been rinsed of dirt. One shoulder was significantly lower than the other, and he kept an elbow cradled close to a body that was limp with fatigue.

Snape knew he didn't look much better. The welts, burns and bruises that adorned his body ranged in colour from yellow to green to blue to black, depending on how old they were. His cell and his person were _Scourgified_ once a week but his clothes were beginning to look ratty. His hair had grown to such a length he could have made a respectable queue, had he been able to untangle it.

He looked, and felt, like a prisoner.

Avery twisted his fingers in Snape's hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to gaze up at Malfoy.

"How have you been, Severus? Enjoying yourself?"

"As always, Lucius," Snape growled.

"And did you see who we have here? Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World. Surely you remember him fondly from when you were his teacher?"

"Not…fond…at all."

"Oh, but I don't believe you."

Avery released Snape's head and elbowed him in the back of the neck. He fell forward, fingernails that were kept too short to do serious harm scrabbling against filthy stones as Lucius placed a heavy foot on his throat.

"I have a proposition for you," Lucius said confidentially.

From the corner of his eye Snape could see Harry curl into a tight ball.

"You tell me everything you know about the plans Dumbledore's cretinous followers have made against the Dark Lord," Lucius said as he lit a cigarette with the glowing tip of his wand, "and I'll make sure you die in a relatively painless way. It shall be an accident; I'll be too enthusiastic with my wand and you shall slip quietly into the next realm. I'm sure Dumbledore would be happy to see his protégé again and my Lord will understand that being around you can provoke the worst in the best of people.

"Lie to me, attempt to placate or confuse me, and you shall die in the most hideous way I can imagine. And I have a superb imagination," Lucius concluded as he pressed his cigarette into the delicate skin near the corner of Snape's eye.

Snape bellowed and would have thrashed about, had the weight of Lucius' foot on his throat not stopped him.

Harry moaned from the corner.

Lucius' head snapped up with the alacrity of a fox that had just smelt a rabbit.

"Potter," he whispered.

"Don't do it," Snape snarled, the stink of his own charred flesh filling his nostrils.

"Oh, but I will. Get him up on all fours."

Avery kicked Snape repeatedly in the side until he pushed himself off the floor, doing his best to stay upright. Lucius dragged Harry out of the corner by his ankles; Harry screaming all the way.

"Shut up," Lucius commanded, backhanding him. "Save your hysterics for when it gets bad. This is nothing to what the Dark Lord has planned for you."

Potter whimpered as if the slightest touch to his skin was painful. He fought back with one arm as best as he could, but Lucius easily manhandled him to the middle of the room.

"Brace yourself, Severus," Lucius said.

A heavy weight fell on top of Snape's back, driving him to his elbows. Avery, who was crouching nearby, slapped his mouth and dragged him up by the hair.

"Malfoy said brace yourself," he said, foul breath blowing across Snape's face. He wrenched Snape's arms further apart, forced his palms flat against the floor, and knelt on them.

He was trapped; weight above him, weight pinning his hands to the floor. Avery's hard kneecaps ground into the delicate bones of Snape's fingers.

"Ohhh," Potter moaned close to his ear.

Snape turned his head and saw Harry's inverted face hanging near him. Harry squirmed, and the sudden change in weight distribution nearly caused Snape to buckle again.

"Steady," Lucius said from the side. "Steady, boy."

"Don't do it," Harry said, each breath a short, panicked inhalation.

"Malfoy – " Snape said.

Avery struck Snape in the temple, reopening an old wound. Blood trickled into his eye and blinking did nothing to alleviate the sting.

"Don't do it, don't do it," Harry chanted under his breath. "Fuck! It hurts!"

"But I've only just started," Lucius said as he ferreted around the small of Snape's back, hands clumsy with lust, fingers ripping open Harry's trousers and yanking them down.

Snape turned his head the other way and saw the bare skin of Harry's flank curved around his own body.

Lucius caught Snape's eye and grinned, sucking two of his own fingers into his mouth.

"Lucius, please – " Snape implored, hating the fact that he was begging when he never had before. Hating the fact that he was begging for Potter when he had given himself up so easily.

Lucius spat in his hand and wiped it over his newly freed cock. "Please what? Please have you instead? I've had that pleasure, old man. Time for a change."

Harry screamed as Lucius' long fingers stabbed into his body.

"You'll be sorry," Harry yelled. "I swear by Dumbledore's fucking tomb you'll be fucking sorry."

Harry's body started to shake so hard that Snape had to lock his elbows and knees. "Potter, don't think about it."

"How can I not think about it," Harry grunted, face twisted in pain. "He's…oh…"

Tears started to splash onto the stones under Harry's face.

"Don't think about it!" Snape shouted, ignoring the press of Avery's groin in his face. "It's not happening, it's not real, it'll be over soon."

Harry screamed as Snape's body rocked from side to side, the force of Lucius' thrusts causing both he and Harry to grunt with each movement.

"It's not real," Avery mocked in a high-pitched voice. "It's not happening. This is all make-believe."

Lucius laughed, the sound discordant with the dull slaps his body made while fucking. "Oh, it's happening all right, Snape. Potter knows, don't you, pet? Potter can _feel_ it happening. That's right, my lovely. Feel it. Feel me."

"I hate you," Harry wheezed. "I'm going to kill you. As soon as Voldemort is dead, you're next. I swear to God, Malfoy, you'll be the next fucker to die."

"You've got a loose mouth," Lucius rasped, close to coming. "And I can now say with complete confidence that the same can be said of your arsehole."

~~~

When it was finally over, Harry rolled off Snape's back and curled into the foetal position, trousers twisted around his knees. Snape slumped to the ground, hiding his face. Tears pricked his eyes; tears of humiliation remembered from the past, and humiliation newly witnessed; despair, and an anger so fierce it seemed to clog his throat with poison. To be so helpless for so long…

He heard the buckles adorning Lucius' robes clink against each other as the sodomising bastard put his clothes to right.

"Damn it – look at his arm!"

"Hmm," Avery said. "Must have come out of its socket before. I told Lestrange he was being too rough."

"Fix it. Our Lord will be here in a few hours. I want him to look as untouched as possible."

"Untouched," Avery snickered as he grabbed Harry's injured arm. Bracing one foot on the opposite shoulder, he pulled with all his might.

Harry screamed and fainted.

"What about him?" Avery asked, pointing his chin Snape's way.

"Leave him. He'll be taken care of once the Dark Lord has finished with Potter."

Exhaustion burnt away the muddled rush of emotions careening through Snape's mind.

He passed out as the bars to their cell clanged shut again.

~~~

He opened his eyes what felt like a minute later, but the stiffness in his bones suggested he'd been insentient for hours.

Potter's cell had a barred window set up high in the wall and Snape took a moment to drink in the luminous sight of a half-moon. For months the only things he had seen were the four bare walls of his cell and his captors. The sharp green smell of pure night air cut through the stench of sweat and fear and other things Snape didn't want to think about hovering over his and Potter's bodies.

Harry was starting to move; he'd be awake before too long. In the faint light given off by the moon and the stars, Snape could see the skin on Potter's thighs goosepimpled with cold, hairs standing upright like sentinels. Snape shivered in sympathy and looked to the door. As if on schedule, a new flagon of water and a meal of dried meat and fruits lay just inside the cell.

After moving their dinner closer, he rested one hand on Harry's leg. Harry kicked out and woke up, startled.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Snape said, drawing back. " We need to get you cleaned up as quickly as possible so you can get dressed. It's cold, and it will be more difficult to warm up if you stay like that for much longer."

"I know," Harry said, wincing as he pulled his trousers over the hump of his arse. There were streaks staining his inner thighs. "I'm fine."

"Of course you are, Potter. But if you don't do something about that," he said, gesturing towards Harry's lower body, "there is a chance that infection could set in. You need to clean yourself up."

Harry grimaced and turned away, red-faced.

"You may not believe me, but I have experience in these matters and I assure you, infection is not something you want to happen."

"I'm not going to be around for long enough for that to be a problem."

"What do you mean?"

Harry avoided his eyes then spat out, "Fine. Fine. Give me the water and turn around. I'm not doing this in front of you."

Snape stretched out his arm, flagon in hand. He refused to let go when Harry reached for it. "You need my help."

"I don't want it," Harry said belligerently.

"As always, it comes back to what Harry Potter _wants_."

With a growl Harry stormed as far away from Snape as he could. "Fuck. _Fuck_. This is all going to shit!"

"What do you mean?"

"Shut up! Just let me think for a minute, all right?"

Snape sat down, crossed his legs and picked at the food. By the time he'd eaten two strips of meat and three pieces of fruit, Harry had finished mumbling under his breath.

"Okay, I'll do it. There's no telling how long Voldemort will be and I can't wait – just, tell me what to do. Fix me up so I'll survive."

Snape nodded. "Lie on your stomach and spread your legs."

Harry turned red, body warring with going forward and racing back, then scrubbed his hands over his face. "Okay. I can do this," he said, as if bracing himself for something terrible.

"This was not on my 'to-do' list for today either, I can assure you," Snape replied tartly as Harry removed his trousers and underwear, rolled them into a ball and settled his head on them.

"Oh, fuck, it's cold!" Harry whimpered.

Snape sympathised – he wouldn't wish to press his genitals against the freezing floor either, but it was the easiest way to get the job done.

"Brace yourself," he nearly said, then changed it to, "Get ready."

"Just… give me a minute, okay? Please?"

"The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can be warm."

"I know, I know," Harry said, taking quick, short breaths. "Try not to touch me much, okay?"

Snape was glad Harry couldn't see his face because he wasn't sure what his expression would show.

He removed the top from the flagon and smelled – good; it was water. He dribbled a bit at the top of Harry's buttocks.

"It's cold."

"I know," Snape said. "Spread your legs."

He heard the dry click of Harry's throat as he swallowed, then Harry's thighs parted, showing a shadowed cleft and balls that were drawn up tight against his body.

"Hold," Snape said softly, gently pulling one cheek away from the other, pouring a steady stream of water over Harry's torn anus.

Harry sucked in a breath and the muscles in his buttocks clenched, but he didn't pull away.

"Not much more," Snape murmured, letting the water run over the slick of blood, semen and shit that coated Harry's thighs. Once the majority had been washed away, he rubbed his fingers over the skin, nails scratching lightly over muscles, passing over damp, coarse hair until Harry was squeaky-clean. In spite of his careful movements, Harry groaned in pain at the touch of his hand.

He put the flagon aside. "I have one more thing I'd like to try, if you'll let me. I don't know that it will work…"

"Do it," Harry said, lowering his forehead to the floor.

"It's invasive," Snape said.

"Will it fix me? Make the pain more bearable?"

"Perhaps."

"Then do it. Can't be much worse."

"I need to you to remain calm," Snape said, pouring water over his right hand, paying particular attention to his index finger. "I must concentrate."

"Do it."

Snape held his breath as he pressed a finger against Harry's hole, expecting Harry to turn and strike him at any moment. Apart from the whimpering, Harry was silent, so he eased forward, slipping inside until his knuckles were completely surrounded.

Snape closed his eyes, concentrated on gathering his magic, focusing it into his hand, forcing it into his finger. When he couldn't tell if the pulse around his knuckles was a muscle spasm or pent-up magic, he spelled.

 _"Episkey."_

The hole twitched around his finger, loosened, twitched again, then tightened. When all movement had stopped, he carefully withdrew. His thumb caressed the curve of Harry's thigh in apology.

"How does that feel?"

Harry rose to his feet, bare buttocks gleaming bright and white. "Better, I think. Yes, much better. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm sure you'd do the same," Snape said, rinsing his hand.

Harry laughed, bashful. "I doubt it."

~~~

They parcelled out the remaining food. Even though he was thirsty, Snape let Harry drink the majority of the water, only taking enough to wash away the foetid taste in his mouth. He knew that their continued existence relied on the whim of capricious captors.

"Why did you say before about not being able to wait?" Snape asked, propped up in a corner. "You said that you wouldn't be around long enough for it to be a problem. Are you going somewhere, Potter?"

Harry chuckled, gingerly rolling onto his hip. "I should hope so. In fact, I expected to be brought straight before Voldemort once I was captured."

"And you were captured recently and rather successfully, from their point of view."

"Yes."

"Was anyone injured or killed during the attack?"

"No, I was alone," Harry replied sharply. "Listen, I don't like being interrogated so –"

"You, the figurehead of the Light, left alone? How convenient for the Death Eaters. What were you thinking?"

"They said…"

"They?"

"Never mind."

"Never mind," Snape sneered. "I've been stuck in this hole for so long I don't know what _month_ it is anymore; I've been whipped, beaten, fucked and all with the knowledge that there was not one single person out there who actually gave a damn. I've given more than my life for the Order and I will have answers!"

"Shit, all right!" Harry said, scowling. "There's no need to yell at me."

Snape leant back, panting as his breath slowed. "I've never known you to be afraid of my bark before, Potter."

Harry chuckled and sat up, straightening his legs in front of him. "You're seem – different. Looser. I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much in one sitting, not even in class."

Snape stared down at his hands; pale, delicate metacarpals that shook more often than not. "I've been alone for a long time. That…changes a man. I've changed," he admitted, grudgingly.

Harry winced. "If we'd known for sure; about your allegiances, about where you were - "

"Never mind. I'd kill for a cigarette," Snape said, apropos of nothing. "Tell me?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "Things aren't going so well for us."

"I gathered that, since you were so easily captured."

"Yeah, that wasn't so easy. We had to arrange it so it looked like I was surprised when really – "

"You wanted to be captured," Snape said flatly.

"Yes."

Snape bit the inside of his mouth. Pain again; sharp, mind-clearing pain kept his emotions under control. "Are things going so badly?"

"There's been a lot of deaths," Harry said, his voice breaking on the last word. In a monotone, he told Snape of the people they'd lost since Dumbledore's death, since Snape's apparent defection. People had been killed whilst hunting down and attempting to destroy the last of the horcruxes. Members of the Order, some of them just out of school, were being ambushed and slaughtered in ones or twos by Death Eaters. He spoke of how the general population of the Wizarding World were nearly hysterical with fear now, and of how impossible it was to be stealthy in such a climate.

"About a month ago," Harry continued, "Angelina disappeared. Fred wanted to go looking for her – she knows a lot of stuff that could… it would be bad if that information fell into Voldemort's hands. But George was struck blind and Fred, he can't go looking for her… he can't leave his brother alone. He won't leave him alone."

"Minerva? Moody? Lupin?"

"They're fine. Well, Moody and Lupin were fine last we heard from them. It's been a while since they've made contact."

Snape scrubbed hands over his tired face, moving carefully around the burn near his eye. "Is there no one else?"

"Well, Ron and Hermione are still around, last time I checked," Harry laughed weakly. "They've been with me all the way but I could feel Voldemort getting closer to finding us and I couldn't just sit back and let him take us out one by one. Take them out."

"What did you do?" Snape hissed, pulling Harry up by the shoulders. "Potter, what did you do?"

Despite focusing all of his attention into Harry's eyes, Snape was unable to see anything past the barrier of feigned indifference.

"I see you've finally mastered Occlumency," he said dryly, letting him go.

"Yeah. Guess I was motivated." Harry said, falling back and glancing up at the window. "Not much longer till dawn. I reckon we should get some sleep."

~~~

Snape turned on his side and found a surprising strip of warmth pressed against him. "Potter?" he asked, even though he knew it could be no other.

"Sorry," Harry said, stretching out in the dark, his hand patting Snape's chest awkwardly.

"Are you cold?"

"Yeah, it's freezing and I – I…"

"Potter? Are you crying?"

"No! I don't cry, especially over something as stupid as, as – "

"You can say it," Snape said, clutching the hand fisted on his chest. "It's already happened. Saying it aloud won't make it worse."

"I won't cry! It's nothing. I don't – I didn't…"

"Say it, Potter. Make it real."

"Rape, okay!" Harry screamed, his voice thick with tears. "I was raped. Fuck, Snape – I was raped – Malfoy raped me and it wasn't meant to go this way. This isn't what we planned."

"It rarely is," Snape whispered. His hand hovered near Harry's nape. Harry leant back, pressing the heavy curve of his skull into Snape's palm. "It never goes the way it's supposed to."

"Did they do it to you, too?" Harry asked, moving closer, his wet face sliding up Snape's neck until their stubbled cheeks scratched against one another, friction sending a hot pulse of want down Snape's spinal cord.

"Potter," Snape said, fingers twined in Harry's hair, keeping the warm face close. "Don't – "

"Did they? Did they rape you too?"

Snape's throat tightened. "Would it help you to know?"

"Yes."

"Then yes."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. His breath hitched as hot tears spilled from his eyes onto Snape's lips. "I'm sorry they raped you."

"I'm sorry, too," Snape said, closing his eyes, pressing his thin lips against Harry's open mouth.

Harry squeezed him tight and returned the kiss, hungry lips moving hurriedly over Snape's mouth, his chin, his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I don't want to use you but I don't want to feel this way, and I don't want that, what they did to me, to be the last thing I think about, the last thing I feel before – "

"It's all right," Snape said, rolling onto his back, the tight grip he had on Harry's hips encouraging the still crying man to lie on top of him.

"Ah, it hurts," Harry panted into his mouth, even as he tugged at their clothes.

"What hurts? Am I'm hurting you?"

"No," Harry moaned as he lined their cocks up together. "Touch. Skin hurts."

"I don't understand."

"Touching you hurts. And it feels good at the same time. Not meant to feel good."

"Potter, I don't – "

"It's okay," Harry said, groaning into Snape's mouth. "Don't want to think about it anymore. Touch me."

A moment's hesitation, a second to reconsider his actions, then Snape lifted his face and kissed blindly, until Harry tilted his head and their mouths met again. Their tongues slipped over each other's as he placed his palms on the curve of Harry's arse and guided his movements, encouraging the pleasure that rolled over them in waves with every greedy thrust of their hips.

Harry grunted into his mouth as they kissed, alternately flinching away and grinding down on Snape's body.

"Hurts. Feels good."

"It shouldn't hurt," Snape said. His hands coiled around Harry's back and twined around his shoulders. "It's meant to feel good. It _does_ feel good."

A puff of laughter tickled Snape's neck and he smiled up at the ceiling, even as his body started to move with greater intent. "It's been a long time, Potter. Don't assume I'm complimenting you on your technique."

Harry sucked, brief and sharp, on Snape's neck then raised his head. "Still hurts," he said, eyes half-closed. "Still don't want to stop touching you."

Snape kissed him again, wet and deep and with the passion of someone who had long ago concluded that torture and solitude were to be his only companions on the way to death.

"Here," Snape said, breaking away. "You'll like this."

He guided Harry onto his back and tugged his trousers down further. Harry laughed as their fingers bumped, clumsy with eagerness.

When Harry's cock sprang up, hard and smooth and almost vibrating with arousal, Snape sucked it into his mouth, giving himself over to the mindless pleasure of flesh; firm, warm flesh that smelt like man and like life, that moved with strength and thickened between his lips, flesh that stroked and kneaded his shoulders and thrust eagerly into his mouth.

Harry came with a cry that sounded like freedom.

With a hand moving furiously on himself and a craving so exquisite it burned, Snape followed.

~~~

Harry lifted his head from Snape's shoulder. "Voldemort's here."

"How do you know?" Snape asked, gently pushing Harry to the side and struggling to his feet.

"I can feel it. Trust me."

Snape smiled wryly. "Stranger things have happened."

Harry grinned and took one of Snape's hands in both of his. Now that dawn had broken, Snape could see the lines of pain around Harry's eyes as he grimaced.

"I'm hurting you," Snape said, drawing his hands away.

Harry clutched them tightly. "It's okay. More of a sting than anything else. It's worth it if we can do this for a little while longer."

"I don't understand. And I'm sure you know how much it pains me to admit that."

Harry squeezed his fingers. "I'll be quick. Now that he's here, I don't have much time."

Snape felt the blood rush from his face and swallowed against the nausea that rushed up to replace it. "What are you going to do?"

"Believe it or not, there's not much I _have_ to do. It's all in me."

"What?"

"We used a spell to encourage what I already had – I guess that's the easiest way to describe it. Before I was captured by the Death Eaters – "

"Before you let yourself be captured by the Death Eaters," Snape interrupted.

Even though he was pale and dirty and bruises showed behind his morning beard, Harry managed to look cocky. "Well, yeah. We didn't want him to get suspicious."

"Go on."

"All the times that we've met in the past, Voldemort has tried to kill me by using magic, but each time, he couldn't resist doing one thing. He couldn't help but touch me."

Snape drew in a sharp breath. "And you – wish him to touch you?"

"Not like that," Harry said, stepping closer but still ensuring no part of their bodies touched save their hands. "Not like you did. I need him to touch me because the moment he does…shit, I wish Hermione were here to explain it to you. It made perfect sense before."

"As much as I appreciate Miss Granger's intellect, if given the choice between listening to _you_ explain something and… "

"Yeah, all right. There's something between Voldemort and me, some sort of connection. And that connection also seems to travel between him and his Death Eaters." Harry paused, a pensive look twisting his face. "We couldn't work out if the connection is purely spelled magic or a bond; maybe a combination of both?"

Snape ground his teeth. "Nothing you're saying makes any sense, and you're far too chipper for a man about to meet his arch-enemy."

Harry looked down at their joined hands. "Never mind. Time's running out and talking won't change anything now. Would you believe me if I said that I'll just be glad when this is all over, regardless of the outcome?"

"Would you believe me if I said I felt the same?"

"There's something about me," Harry said softly, causing Snape to drop his head closer so as to hear him better. "You said all along that I was different and you were right. He tried to kill me when I was a baby, threw everything he had at me too, but I managed to survive. If I can survive _Avada Kedavra_ when I was that young, then I can survive him touching me now, can't I? And if he doesn't touch me, then all I have to do is get to him. Just skin on skin, for a moment. That should be enough to do it."

"I'm sure you can," Snape said, forcing himself to sound enthusiastic. "If anyone could, it would be you."

Harry laughed. "You sound like a motivational speaker."

"The power of positive thinking, Potter," Snape said dryly. "It does a world of wonders."

"Funny, you never looked like you subscribed to the 'glass is half full' school of thought while you were at Hogwarts."

"Those circumstances were entirely different."

Harry gasped and fell to his knees.

"Potter!" Snape yelled, even as he heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

"It's time," Harry stuttered. With Snape's help, he struggled back to his feet.

"Listen," he said, clutching Snape's arm. "The Order – well, what's left of it – know where I am. They're counting on me to get this done. As soon as it's over, if I'm still… I'll make sure they come for you."

"They? What about you? What's going to happen to you?"

"Either something very, very good, or something pretty fucking bad. One of us is going to be entirely drained of his magic by the time this is over and I'm hoping it's not me. As for those marked by him; well, we're not sure. There may be some pain, so be prepared. Just…don't worry. As soon as I see someone from the Order, I'll tell them to break you out."

"But this is ridiculous," Snape snapped. The footsteps were now ringing down the corridor. "You can't do this, it's too risky. What if you fail? What of the Order then? Tell me what to do; I'll go. Whatever you have planned, I'll do it."

"Snape," Harry said, letting Snape bear the full weight of his body. "We've run out of time."

"I won't let you do this."

Harry rubbed his nose under Snape's ear. "Don't you understand? I'm the _only_ one who can. I'm special, damn it."

"Fucking hell," Snape said, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders. "You are, and I'm sorry – "

"Don't apologise for last night," Harry said. "I meant what I said. Whatever happens, I didn't want that to be my last memory."

Snape heard Bellatrix cast _Alohomora_ on the door behind them and closed his eyes. He kissed Harry hard; much harder than was probably wise, wanting to make it the last thing Harry thought of, no matter what happened, no matter what had already happened.

"Will you look at this?" Avery slurred. "Love in the battlefield."

They continued kissing, even though Harry's mouth had tightened in pain, even as Avery drunkenly grabbed Harry by the shoulders and wrenched them apart.

Snape lunged and Bellatrix shrieked; her lipstick-smeared lips stretching as she cast a spell that picked him up and threw him to the other side of the room. Great chains slithered from the floor and walls, writhing up his legs, his torso, his throat, binding him so tight that every laboured breath he sucked in sounded like a kettle whistling.

As Bellatrix laughed, Harry fought Avery off and stood to the side, hunched over in pain.

"Don't," he exhorted Snape. "They want you to fight. Keep up your strength. You're going to need it soon."

"Potter…" Snape wheezed.

"It's all right. I'm ready," Harry said, turning towards Bellatrix. "Take me to him."

"Oh, what joy you will bring to the Dark Lord," Bellatrix said, sweet smell of alcohol exuding from her robes.

Bellatrix turned her attention back to Snape, gauged him as harmless then, with a flick of her wrist, set him free.

"Don't fret, Severus," she said. "Your time will come soon enough."

"My face will be the last thing you see in this world," Snape promised.

A flush of colour rose up Bellatrix's neck and she wobbled as she turned on her heel. "Come, pretty Potter. Our Lord awaits and he's not known for his patience."

"Snape? That thing you said last night?" Harry said intently.

Snape nodded.

"It's November."

A brief smile flittered over Snape's face.

"I'll see you later," Harry said, returning the smile.

"See that you do, Mr Potter."

"How romantic," Avery jeered. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of him. Young Potter is going to a party."

The last glimpse Snape caught of Harry, as the door to the cell slammed in his face, was of the man walking tall, fists clenching and unclenching with anticipation.

"Fuck. Fuck!"

~~~

Snape paced, knuckles bit and bleeding, watching the passage of the sun in the sky, the movement of shadow across the floor. The dungeons were as thickly silent as always, the only sound that of his feet as he strode fuming back and forth. If only he knew…if only there were a sign.

A great bolt of fire ran up his arm from his Dark Mark to his head. He screamed and collapsed to the floor, jarring himself on the stones. Oh, this was much more painful than _Cruciatus_. This was _Cruciatus_ amplified, agony bouncing around the confines of his skull and piercing his brain.

He roared and struggled to feel outside of himself, some spark of magic that belonged to Harry or to Voldemort, something that would let him know which way the axe had fallen.

And then, like a torch soundly snuffed, the pain stopped. Snape whimpered and rested his slackened face against the floor. He struggled to untangle his limbs and took a minute to compose himself.

Relief coursed through his body, like a heavy burden had been put down.

Release shot from his bones, sharp as the bite of an icy river.

Then, just like the fragrant smell of mallowsweet drifting through the air, just like the feeling of sinking into a warm bath with sore muscles, a sense of peace washed over him.

His skin felt tighter, the hair on his arms rose – his very blood and soul felt refreshed. His mouth watered with the remembered taste of a thousand fine meals. Music rang in his head, crystalline and so pure that each note radiated joy. The kind voices of family and friends long loved and just as long lost seemed to murmur close by, as if from another room.

Snape laughed, rolled onto his back and spread his limbs wide. Oh, but he felt fine.

He felt free.

There was happiness around him, a sense of all encompassing peace – he was positively bathed in the stuff. He laughed again, loudly and from the bottom of his lungs as he wiped tears from his cheeks. His face hurt with the wideness of his grin.

He knew it wouldn't be too long before he and Harry were together again. It was only a matter of time.

Soon.

Soon enough.

Not long now.

Not long at all.


End file.
